The new album from Stephen Higgins has been released. ‘Valis’ has 9 instrumental tracks inspired by the writing of Philip K Dick. ‘Valis’ is available whereever you get your music.
In this issue
A fantastic cover, a guest editorial from Eugen Bacon, wonderful new stories, brilliant non fiction, really superb art and great reviews.
Read extracts
Edited by
Stephen Higgins
From the Cloud
From the Cloud: Guest Editorial
Eugen Bacon
I used to feel a certain way about couples who chose not to have any children—their babies were cats, dogs, lizards, even snakes. My perspective was a cultural positioning, coming from an Afrocentric background where family, community and the importance of a name, and keeping it alive, were soul. I heard no-kids folk speak of the cost of raising a child, and I thought: that’s a bit selfish, someone raised you. But, now, I get it—forced to get it—because my Gen Z son would rather plummet himself from a clifftop than sire a child. His reasons? ‘What world are we bringing them into, Mum?’ And he’s right. A Gen Z, same mettle as Greta Thunberg, the generation that took to the streets in School Strike 4 Climate (SS4C) and governments and teachers could do bugger-all about it.
The dystopian nature of our world today—with all its storms, droughts, rising sea levels, floods, wildfires, bleached coral, air pollution, disease, poverty, hate, forced displacements, wars and genocides—is not just about climate. It doesn’t start or end with the US and its nincompoop and the sycophants adulating deprived leadership. The book bans, the detention centres and all the garbage about vaccines and DEI hires…I think of George Orwell’s Animal Farm (1945), Philip K Dick’s The Man in the High Castle (1962), Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 (1953), Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale (1985)… and I wonder whether these authors and their books were visionary, or are we today in 2026 enacting into reality the dystopian science fiction they wrote?
My 2022 Afrofuturistic dystopian novel, Mage of Fools, was a cautionary tale tackling climate change that killed men. It was also a story about a social world that took and took, oppressing and murdering its citizens in public executions. I invented a made-up African country, Mafinga—the name of a real town in Tanzania where I was born—and I placed in it strong female protagonists, like Jasmin, who hid a banned story machine, and Mama Apiyo, who was a mentor to the forced factory workers, and Mama Gambo, whose husband the system murdered, and Solo, who was Jasmin’s lover and led the resistance.
The story was purely fictional because, at the time, Tanzania was one of the most peaceful countries in the world. If someone told you they were a refugee from Tanzania, you’d laugh them out of the room. Then, in October 2025, elections happened in the real Tanzania. We saw turmoil and killings (government sanctioned), as the Zoomers—these Gen Zs—took to the streets chanting against dictatorship. People ‘disappeared’, or were imprisoned and tortured, including a TikTok influencer who danced to a song called ‘Nywinywi’ (look it up) and she was charged with treason, a crime punishable in Tanzania by hanging.
I wasn’t being prophetic when I wrote Mage of Fools, that dystopian story—one that wanted to come out—and it’s laughable to think the Tanzanian government might have read it and chosen to enact it three years later. As writers of science fiction, fantasy and horror, we can only write because we must do so, exhilarating, detestable, painful though this might be.
In speculative fiction, we can explore our place in the universe, ask fundamental philosophical questions, interrogate the past and learn from it, contemplate a different future. Through a different kind of writing, we can engage with difference and, hopefully, in our worlds and fictions, cultivate an awareness to more inclusive worlds.
All the best from the cloud!
Eugen Bacon
From A New Game
Toby, a curly haired boy with a nervous smile, stood in the middle, fidgeting. That’s sweet, Alison thought. They’ve made him the centre of attention.
When the circle was made, they began to turn around him. They started slowly, but soon turned faster, with the natural momentum of children in a circle, until they were almost skipping, hands outstretched, their eyes never leaving the boy in the middle. The classroom windows were too thick for her to hear them, but from the rhythm and the intense concentration in their faces, Alison thought they might be humming. Two girls almost fell, clutched at each other, and stumbled on. Toby vanished and reappeared as the bodies of the children flashed by, watching the others with wide brown eyes as they spun around him. Suzy’s hair lifted from her shoulders.
They stopped, pointed at Toby and barked a single word, white teeth flashing. Toby’s mouth opened, and then closed again. He bit his lip. Help him, Alison silently willed through the glass. He doesn’t know what to do.
From Anna, in the Abstract
There were parties. Abandoned silos lit with fairy lights and impromptu art shows in the metallic holds of old canal boats on the Spree. They began, ended or circled through the squat; its central marble staircase coiling around the open lift shaft, sprouting doorways (doors long removed) onto unexpected space. The previous tenants—a cluster of software firms—had opened up the turn-of-the-century residential block before the latest tech collapse turfed them out, making way for the new wave of autonomist squatter-artists.
From The Book of Middles
Because any book now could be The Book of Middles, please read this entire introduction to the first edition of The Book of Middles: A Definitive History. Make sure the subtitle says A Definitive History. There is a window of time where a reader can put this book down and continue their life without interruption before the mycelium penetrates their palms and the spores germinate in their lungs.
As an expert in parasitic fungi, I admire how well the Book’s infectious mechanisms work to infect hosts and replicate itself. We who live on planet Earth need a cure. You won’t find one in the pages here. But there is a vaccine, which is given the same way the Book works to lure you. It is told as a story. And the story is mine.
From The Quirky Life of Hugo Gernsback
Most readers and writers of science fiction have heard of Hugo Gernsback; the most prestigious SF awards are named the Hugo after him. For those who don’t know, the Hugo Award is an annual literary award for the best science fiction or fantasy works of the previous year. The awards ceremony occurs at the World Science Fiction Convention and recipients are chosen by its members. Hugo Gernsback was honoured because he was the publisher of Amazing Stories, the first pulp magazine devoted to science fiction stories. He launched the magazine in April 1926. For that alone, he deserves recognition, but Hugo Gernsback did so much else.
From An Interview with Stephen Higgins, Creator of ‘Valis’, a Musical Album Inspired by the Words of Philip K Dick
Stephen Higgins is one of the founders of Aurealis and continues as one of the managing editors. He is also a talented musician who has just released an album that has an excellent genre inspiration.
From Hacking the Flesh: the Future of the Human Form
It is widely assumed that we cannot escape a future in which humans will physically meld with machines to a greater or lesser extent. From bionic implants to permanent wearable devices to nanobots, both our bodies and minds could be enhanced or, otherwise, transformed in ways we are only beginning to imagine. Centuries, hence, could likely usher in the age of the cyborg and, rather than being the menacing brutes portrayed often in fiction, they would be the norm rather than the exception, walking our streets and sitting in our offices without so much as the batting of an eyelid.
